


Just to Hear Your Voice

by Kaleidoscope_Carousel



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 12:51:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1470496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaleidoscope_Carousel/pseuds/Kaleidoscope_Carousel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of Endless Terror, Artie just needs to hear her voice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just to Hear Your Voice

**Author's Note:**

> So I heard a spoiler that 5.01 was the last appearance of Vanessa Calder in the series. Artie and Vanessa are one of my absolute OTP's so I thought that if it's true that's not fair to have her last appearance be an AU version of herself. I wanted to rectify that situation, so I guess this could be considered a fix-it drabble.  
> Dashed off really quickly and unbetaed, so please forgive (but also point out) any errors in grammar, spelling, etc. I will get back to this to fix it but I wanted to post while it was still fresh in my mind.

Once the dust has settled from their little adventure in a parallel time stream, once everyone has gone back to the B&B, once the Warehouse is calm and quiet once again, Artie sits down in his office. He fiddles with some paperwork, rearranges this pile and that, before finally reaching over and picking up the receiver on the rotary phone and dialing a familiar number.

"Hello?" Artie has never been so happy to hear her voice.

"Vanessa, hi, it's me, uh Artie,"

"Artie! This is a surprise, I was just packing. I've been called to attend this meeting in Europe by the Regents, but I definitely have a few minutes to talk. How are you?"

"I'm fine. Well, another near world-ending experience, and the Warehouse almost got taken over by Paracelsus unbronzed, but that sort of goes without saying," he can hear the sound of her opening and shutting drawers in the background, and pictures her, head tilted awkwardly to hold onto the phone while leaving her hands free to keep packing. He smiles at the mental image.

"Sounds like your average work day at the Warehouse," she says. He laughs at her dry tone.

"How about you? How are you?" he asks.

"Oh, I'm fine. The other day I got called out to investigate a possible Artifact induced illness on a university campus in Washington, but it turns out it was just some kids who accidentally brought the wrong batch of cookies to their club's fundraising bake sale. That particular batch was supposed to be saved for the party Friday night." The noises of drawers has stopped and Artie imagines her, perched on the edge of the bed next to her suitcase. He closes his eyes, imagines himself sitting next to her, maybe holding her hand. 

"Artie?" she says, "are you still there?" he starts, realising he's let himself get lost in his own head.

"Yes, sorry, I'm still here,"

"Oh good, I was hoping the connection hadn't cut out. Oh, but damn, I've got to get going. My flight leaves in a few hours."

"Have a safe flight," he says, "say hello to Mrs. Lattimer for me."

"I will," she says, and her voice has gone soft and gentle.

"Vanessa. . ." he says

"Yes Artie?"

"I miss you,"

"I miss you, too. Don't go growing another appendix while I'm gone, alright? I hear that vet isn't around anymore to operate on you," Artie laughs.

"I promise I won't."

"Good. Say hi to everyone at the Warehouse for me, and I'll see you soon."

"Yes, see you soon Vanessa."

"I love you," she says, and his chest does this funny little squeeze at the words.

"I love you, too," he says and he can practically hear her smiling from the other end of the line.

"Bye for now, Artie," she says

"Bye Vanessa," he answers, and the line goes dead with a little click. He hangs up the receiver and sits for a moment in the all too delicate quiet of the Warehouse. He knows that peace won't last for long, but at least for the time being that little bit of conversation has assured him that for five minutes, maybe a bit more, all was right with his world.


End file.
